


in my imagination you're waiting lying on your side

by JustRosey



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: And very lonely, F/F, Rose did have too much time to think, and she's a bit whiny, prison ramble, she also gets beaten up towards the end, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-07-14 07:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16035725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustRosey/pseuds/JustRosey
Summary: (The title is nonsense tbh, but I love the song)Welcome to this drabble, that I had rotting on my computer and decided to 'finish' today.Rose is in prison, and well... I have no idea how to summarize this fic, so you might just have a look at it yourself.xx(TW: There's a fight scene in this, but it's not bloody)





	1. Chapter 1

[ They had stayed in bed longer after the usual sex this time.  
This time back then, Rose hadn’t literally jumped up, got dressed and left immediately after she could feel her legs starting to work again.

She had stayed beside her this time, just barely touching Luisa’s arm with her own. It wasn’t much contact, but to Rose it was as close as she had ever been to cuddling with another woman. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt like she really needed this, and when Luisa turned over and draped a tan arm across her pale torso, she allowed it, even though it gave her goosebumps and made her swallow against the dry feeling in her mouth.  
She had never stayed after the sex. Never. Not until that night.  
“Are you alright?” Luisa asked, sounding a little worried and sat up. “You’re shivering… ”  
The brunette gently stroked over a freckle-dusted cheek, carefully felt a pale forehead with her other hand.  
“I’m okay.”  
It sounded more helpless; weaker than expected, so Rose cleared her throat and sat up too.  
She shouldn’t have stayed.  
She never did, and it was better that way.

“Stay.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Please.”

She felt Luisa’s arms snaking around her chest again, leaving goosebumps in their wake again.

“Please. I don’t want to be alone tonight. He won’t be back until tomorrow anyways...”

Rose had been so glad, Luisa hadn’t started the whole ‘Why are you engaged to my father, yet slept with me on the fourth of July and continue to do so now’ story again. Emilio and her had fixed their wedding date before he flew off to Europe two days prior. She hadn’t told Luisa; however, she did call her, and they did have sex again, and it felt way too good again, and Rose was sure if she stayed over that night it would be a big mistake.  
And no, it wasn’t like she had given her brain allowance to lie back down, but somehow Rose found herself back under Luisa’s sheets that night; in Luisa’s embrace, just a moment later, with no memory of giving in to her, and the sweetest, longest six hours of sleep she’d experienced in a long time.  
What did this woman do to her?  
Why was she special?  
Why her?  
After that night, she still stuck to her carefully crafted plan; she still married Emilio, but from that night on she had lost something to his beautiful daughter; something she couldn’t place yet.  
Her plan had started a downward spiral from then, and Rose got high on Luisa again, and again, and again…]

-

She lies awake on this godforsaken, squeaky steel bed for the third night in a row, and she revisits all those sweet, yet now so very distant memories.  
She allows herself to dwell on them, like she never had before.  
For so long, she had always pushed them away; pretended they belonged into the dream section of her brain; because they weren’t, shouldn’t, or ever would become completely true.  
Back then, she had played with the thought of getting rid of Luisa somehow; hire someone, since she couldn’t do it herself.  
Accidents happen, right? She would have been able to stick to the plan without feeling… just literally feeling.  
She wasn’t sure what she felt back then; she just knew it was upsetting, and she did not like anything upsetting.

This had changed though.

She had realized a long time ago, she didn’t have to be upset. She was rather able to let herself fall into this feeling and bathe in it and feel as if everything was alright and always had been.

There had been a life with Luisa, for three years. They had traveled a lot, had seen so many things together, had made so many memories, and it did feel so incredibly real; more real than anything ever had.  
Until it ended.  
Miami had never been a good place for them.

And although she knows now, where Luisa is, that woman feels more distant and lost to her than ever.  
She knows, Luisa has deposited the money in the bank account, but she also knows, Luisa doesn’t want to see her.  
She could be out already; hell, the money’s been there for over a month now. Everything is ready. The messages to confirm the start of the break out plan reach her on a daily basis.  
Yet she has decided to stay here until her head is clear; until she knows what to do once she is out.  
Not yet.  
The whole Carl story was hard on Luisa, and Rose wishes more than anything, she could have prevented it from happening. She might have issues with feeling things, or reading emotions, but she is definitely capable of understanding what this did to Luisa, who has never had too much confidence in her own sanity anyways.

-

She must’ve fallen asleep. The cell is pitch black, and Rose sits up abruptly causing something to fall to the floor with a loud thump, disturbing the suffocating silence.  
She doesn’t as much as flinch.  
Fumbling around in the darkness for a moment, she finds the light switch and observes the mess of scattered paper on the floor.  
The now nearly unusably tiny pencil she had pocketed many weeks ago still rests in her right hand, and the big, heavy book about desert flora and fauna, she uses as a replacement for the lack of a desk in her cell, rests, spine up, on the cold, grey floor.  
The countless napkins and pages featuring pencil sketches have fallen out of it, giving Rose a pretty clear picture of how desperate she has become in here already.  
Faces.  
Only the one face, to be precise.  
Again and again. Different expressions; different angles.

She remembers asking her once, if she thinks it might not be love; what if it was just obsession that may have an expiry date?  
Luisa had taken her cold hand, while they were stood on the snow covered Red Square in Moscow, placed a soft kiss on her lips, and told her she wanted her to try seeing a psychologist; to help her get better at understanding… feelings.  
After that they had fought for the rest of their ice cold Russian holiday, and the frost on the windows of their plane back to Paris had been nothing compared to Rose’s icy glares.  
She had taken Luisa for granted at this point already; now she knows better, and hell, she would agree to anything now, if she could just get her back.

With a sigh, she pushes herself off the bed and starts picking up the scattered pieces of paper. She doesn’t really look at any of the drawings, until she finds a special one; it’s the only drawing she had ever done with both of them on it.  
They had taken all the photographs away from her, before they had shoved her into this cell months ago.  
The next day, she had made it her mission to, at least, get a hold of some paper and a pencil, and she had succeeded. The following night, she did this drawing of Luisa and herself, kissing each other.  
She had been overly confident back then; she had been sure she’d be out of here in no time, running away with Luisa again.  
Everything had turned out so much more complicated than she’d expected.

Rose slowly tears the drawing apart, separating Luisa’s and her face from each other, breaking their kiss apart, before she rips the paper apart completely, leaving only small, white snippets scattered like snowflakes on the grey floor.  
She had never thought, she would feel so left alone one day.

-

[ “Come oooon!” Luisa whined, grabbing a pale hand, still stained with traces of SPF 100; beside the countless freckles, and pulling.

“No, I don’t want to,” a pouty voice answered her from under the wide, black sun hat. “I am not a fan of swimming.”

“What? Excuse you, but I remember you being very enthusiastic about swimming 2 years ago?” Luisa gasped exaggeratedly and tipped the rim of the sunhat up to look into clear, blue eyes, framed by darkening freckles.

“Well, yes I’m good with that kind of swimming and pools but... I don’t like the sea,” Rose gave back, mouth curling into a smile, yet she freed her left hand from Luisa’s grip.

It was so unfair how much their skin tones differed in summer; while Luisa looked like the sun had gently kissed her, skin glowing, as if glazed with honey, or caramel even, if she only spent enough hours in the Miami sun, Rose’s own skin was still as cool as always, blue and purple undercurrents shining through the sickly looking white. The closest she could get to ‘warm tones’ was either the unwanted, dark brown freckles that colonized her body, or right away a deep shade of burning red, that was even more unwelcomed.

“Why?” Luisa asked, plopping down beside Rose.

“Too many fish, which are faster than me in the water,” Rose admitted with a yawn and lay back in the shade of the umbrella, expecting Luisa to be happy with that answer.

“So you really need to be the best at everything?” Luisa giggled and lay down beside her. “You’re really driving perfectionism to a new level, you know. Even dad recently complained about you being so picky about basically everything,” she continued and got lost staring out at the water.

“Can we not talk about him?” Rose sighed, eyes still closed; why hadn’t this conversation stopped already; how did they get from her merely not wanting to take a dip, to her husband; Luisa’s father?

“But you do realize it’s your life, we’re not talking about right now?” Luisa teased and propped herself up on her elbows, looking at Rose, who was still lying there with her eyes closed. “He’s your husband; he’s the man you said ‘I do’ to; he’s the one you wanted... or something like that,” she grumbled and pinched Rose in the side. “Are you really able to just ignore all this; and me?”

Rose opened her eyes, looked at the brunette, sighed and sat up.

“You just said, I’m the best at everything; so I’m also the best at ignoring all of this, yes,” she answered reluctantly and stared out on the water, like Luisa had earlier.

“I did not say you are the best at everything; I said you want to be the best at everything!” Luisa protested with a laugh and was surprised when Rose turned around to her with a grin on her face and a mischievous sparkle in her blue eyes.

“So Luisa Alver, you think I’m not entirely amazing? Tell me more about that? What weaknesses do I have in your opinion?” Rose challenged her and came a little closer on the red beach towel lying beneath them.

“Your weakness sits right in front of you, are you aware of that?” Luisa gave back dryly and raised an eyebrow. She did take the wind out of Rose’s sails for a moment, but against all expectations, Rose smiled and lightly nodded her head.

“Apart from that; apart from you?” she asked, coming even closer to Luisa, turning away in the last moment and sitting down beside her.

“I... I don’t know,” Luisa stammered, confused by the impression of Rose actually wanting a serious answer.

“See?” Rose triumphed with a laugh and lowered herself down on her elbows.

“You bite your lip when you are nervous, and your hands get really cold too then. You have a different smile and attitude towards people you... people you don’t care about.” ]

-

Rose wakes up again, and this time, sunlight is creeping in through the window, telling her it is actually an appropriate time to be awake.  
After having a much needed shower, she doesn’t go back to her cell but decides to right away make her way over to the food hall.  
She had twisted her wet hair up into a messy bun, the little droplets steadily landing on her neck, running down her back, wetting the orange fabric of her jumpsuit, and making her shiver.  
If only Luisa could see her now; she’d probably be freaking out with how miserable she looked… or maybe she wouldn’t care.  
The two times, the guards announced Rafael wanted to talk to her, she had tried to at least straighten her hair and put on some makeup, in order to hide her tired, pale complexion (she might as well try to keep her face; at least in front of him), but any other day, she doesn’t care anymore.  
She used to go without makeup all the time, until she was about 20; before Elena had decided she would build up her rebellious, flannel wearing, tomboyish, lesbian stepdaughter a desirable, straight, womanly trophy wife.  
Rose remembers the pile of her burning clothes vividly. 

Joining the queue in front of the buffet, she realizes, how hungry she actually is.  
Since she’d been here, she kind of forgot about eating all the time, too consumed by her thoughts; she’d lost at least five kilos.  
The food isn’t exactly a thing to look forward to anyways, but since she’d been almost too dizzy to get up two days ago, due to lack of food, she’s trying to eat more regularly now; she’d also had three colds in here already, so her wet hair business was pretty risky too, but Rose has always taken ‘no risk, no fun’ very serious.

After almost wrestling with another inmate for the last banana, she makes her way over to her usual table in a quiet corner of the big hall; alone as always, but with that banana.  
She hadn’t really tried talking to any other prisoner in here; she wasn’t in need of friends. She should… could be out of here already.  
She knows, they know who she is, or was, and her name and career speak for themselves, but some of the women in here are not that impressed really.  
Rose of course, had proven herself a few times; receiving special treatment by some of the guards, she was able to get a hold of things she needed, like hair dye, and Luisa had been allowed to visit once a week and not separated by a glass barrier… but that hasn’t happened in a far too long time anymore.  
She’s just happy for her single cell; roommates would totally ruin the last bit of fear and respect those other inmates still paid her.  
(Sin)Rose(tro) definitely has too much insomniac overthinking and overall restlessness going on to be regarded as a completely remorseless killer machine.  
Additionally, all the recent nocturnal sniffling and sneezing would have besmirched her flawless, intouchable, formerly faceless image as well.

While she’s still chewing on the last piece of banana, mouth full with the sweet taste of this small early morning victory, she thinks back to when her and Luisa had tried being healthy and domestic in Paris, trying the whole couple’s cooking thing.  
They both had close to no experience, when it came to pots and stoves, so it was mostly loads of laughter, and ending up ordering take out at 10PM.  
Rose had smugly joked about how she at least knew to handle knives, and Luisa had only found it funny, when two days later Rose cut her finger, trying to get the stone out of an avocado.  
She catches herself smiling about that now, remembering how Luisa had teased her all week, but always grabbed her hand afterwards to place gentle kisses onto the love heart bandaid on Rose’s finger.

She’s shaken out of her daydreaming by the woman from earlier, her “bananenemy” (lmao what am I doing here actually?!) , approaching her table.  
There’s four more behind her, making their knuckles crack, and when Rose’s eyes search for the guards that usually stand somewhere close by, she feels her heart beating a little quicker, upon realizing there was none of them there.

“Ladies, five against one? Really?” she sighs and gets up, already blocking the first fist approaching her.

She lavishes the feeling of her own knuckles connecting with one of her attacker’s chins and hearing a satisfying crack.  
She makes another one’s nose give much the same cracking noise, and shakes her sore hand afterwards.  
Two of her opponents lay knocked-out on the floor, and Rose was having an energy- and confidence boost, to say the least, when suddenly, out of nowhere, the huge muscle monster of a woman grabs her from behind, leaving her as a helpless punchbag for the other two.

She just about manages to escape the woman’s grip, falling onto her knees, hand on her aching chest, when she hears guards shouting… finally.  
She’s grabbed by the shoulders again, by the woman she had stripped off her breakfast, and although the guards are almost there already, she pushes Rose forward, making her head connect painfully with the woman’s knee, knocking her out, unconscious body slumping down on the floor, once the woman lets go of her.

-

[ “Hold still!”

Luisa slapped her shoulder from behind, tipping her head back into the wanted position right after.

“You’re taking ages,” Rose groaned, but tried to keep her head quiet this time.

“You wanted your hair in a fancy updo for the opera tonight, and I am just creating the fanciest ever,” Luisa answered slowly, while concentratedly shoving bobby pins into Rose’s tamed, red maine.

“How much longer?” Rose enquiried, trying to not sound too impatient. “We’re gonna be late.”

“You’re honestly like a four year-old on a road trip, asking ‘are we gonna be there soon mommy’ every single minute,” Luisa laughed and fixed the last bobby pin in her creation. “But you’re lucky - I’m done!”

Rose took her chance to turn her head and glare at Luisa for being compared to a four year-old, before she got up, had a look at herself in the mirror and smiled. ]

-

[ Ever since Rose had made Luisa watch Amelie, Montmartre had become the brunette’s favourite spot here in Paris.  
They had been here too many times already, but that special, chilly October night had turned out to be the most beautiful ever.  
The trees were of the same golden colour as the orange turning sky, slowly swallowing the warmly glowing sun, and Rose had pressed herself to her love’s back, head on the shorter woman’s shoulder, whispering an “I love you,” into her hair.

When she hadn’t got an answer, she lifted her head to look into Luisa’s eyes, and she was not at all happy about finding tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Lu… what’s wrong?” she had asked carefully, stepping in front of Luisa and the view and put a cold hand to a rosy, tear stained cheek.

“I just… Sometimes I feel like I’m dreaming, and I don’t know, if it’s the best dream I’ve ever had, or the worst nightmare,” Luisa tried through her tears. “But then I remind myself that this is real… Everything is real, and there’s too much bad stuff undone by so much good stuff, and… and I get scared, Rose.”

While she rubbed soft circles on Luisa’s cheek with her thumb, Rose thought about what to say; how to make it all okay.

“What is it that scares you, Lu?” she asked carefully. “I’m here, I’m always with you, there’s no need to be scared. I will never let anything bad happen to you.”  
Luisa let out a small, sarcastic laugh and wiped the redhead’s hand off her cheek before drying the last few tears herself.

“You are the reason I get scared, and you are the only person I’ve ever felt safe with.”

After hearing this, Rose hadn’t known what to say; she had joined Luisa staring at the beautiful sundown and had kept quiet all the way to their apartment.  
She could never make it all okay again. ]

-

[ “Ro?”

She tried burying her face deeper in the pillow; she was so tired of always having those deep conversations at night, when Luisa had woken up once more, questioning their life together. She had long accepted that no apology; nothing she could ever do or say would make all the bad memories go away forever.

“Rose?”

Mumbling a silent curse, Rose turned her head back to Luisa and stared at her expectantly with sleepy eyes. “Hmm?”

“So… just hypothetically, of course… if one day we would have the chance to actually do this somewhere… would you… would you want to get married?” Luisa stumbled insecurely, reaching over for Rose’s warm hand, to have something to hold on to.

“Are you… Luisa Alver, is this a proposal?” she asked, understandably a lot more awake now.

“I mean, just…” Luisa stopped and sat up, making Rose do the same. “Rose, would you marry me? At some place, some time, somewhere in the future?” she grinned, still not letting go of Rose’s hand.

“I love you,” Rose smiled dreamily, squeezing Luisa’s slightly sweaty hand. “And yes, I want to marry you at some place, some time, somewhere in the future,” she went on, before leaning into a sweet, soft kiss. ]

-

Rose wakes up and groans.  
One hand finds its way to her head, feeling for any cuts or bruises, since it does sure feel like it has been split in half.  
She encounters a painful bump just above her eyebrow, but fortunately, it doesn’t seem to be an open wound.

After getting the hang of breathing with her most certainly not okay chest, Rose blinks a few times against the dizziness and takes in her surroundings.  
She had expected to be back in her cell.  
The bed felt the same, but the reason for that was her being sore apparently.  
She finds herself in a completely white room, her left arm shackled to one side of the bed with handcuffs, and her right hand wrapped up in a soft bandage.  
She lets her eyes drift to the IV pole beside the bed, and follows the tube, leading down to the bend of her elbow.  
She tries not to gag at the sight.  
A bullet in a shoulder was still much easier to stomach for Rose, than a needle in her arm.  
Elena had really managed to give her a trauma back then.  
Luisa had been the one person to be capable of calming her enough to endure blood tests etc…  
She just misses her, and not because she had made Rose a different person, but because it was just nice being held sometimes; something she had missed out on during her childhood, and-

The door opens, interrupting her from pitying herself, and Rose stares at a person wearing a white coat and a surgical mask entering.

“I thought, I’d take over the wheel. Been waiting for your sign for quite a while now,” the grinning man says, approaching the bed. “What took you so long? Money’s been in the account for ages. Didn’t you miss me?”

“Would have to lie,” Rose answers, and cringes at her own voice sounding hoarse and a little squeaky. “So this is your magnificent plan? Getting me beat up and taken to hospital, only to let me disappear from here?”

“It sure is the easiest way. Getting you out of here unnoticed won’t be much of a problem, while high security solitary confinement… well,” the man grins and reaches for a blood pressure cuff. “I am your doctor, by the way. In case you didn’t notice yet,” he chuckles, grabbing her arm and putting it on.  
Rose rolls her eyes.  
“So they got a camera in here, but one without sound, am I right?” she sighs and rolls her eyes at him.

“You’ve always been a quick study. Brain concussion or not. Knew I could give you a little headache without making you useless for the plan ahead,” he winks, and she wants to slap him; hard.  
He was a year or two younger than her, they’d known each other for ages, and she had literally built him up in her business, sharing some of her success with him, but right now, it would probably be best to keep up the act he’d prepared.  
She could still threaten him though; everything audible but invisible was allowed.  
“I’d beat you up if I could right now.”

He looks at her, and his surgical mask curls up with the hidden smile behind it.

“I know, Ruvelle,” he simply says, and squeezes her shoulder for a moment, before taking the blood pressure cuff off again. “You’ll have plenty of time to do that, after we get you out of here, but maybe you’ll reconsider and just thank me then.”

He turns around, heading for the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he announces and wants to slip out of the room.  
Rose’s still hoarse voice stops him though.  
“Bobby?”

He turns around again.

“It’s good to see you,” she admits and manages a glad grin, before realizing smiling hurt quite a bit.

“Get some rest, Ruvelle,” he smiles again and leaves.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright.  
> Wow, I just wrote a more or less complete chapter in my lunch break. (Read as: I had no time to read this again in terms of mistakes.)  
> Hearing the Roisa season 5 spoilers really just made me want to give this a second chapter after all and put my own headcanon into practice rather then... well, whatever canon has got in store for them.
> 
> I am aware, this is not a "finale" to their story either, but I wanted to leave some possibilities open (for your imagination, or for a future chapter...)
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this ridiculous second chapter, where I do what I do best: Hint at painful other stories I contributed to this fandom (hurting myself the most with that. Don't worry.), and putting fluff into places you shouldn't put fluff.

She hadn’t thought it would be this exhausting to follow through with Bobby’s plan, but being woken up in the middle of the night, and not in a gentle way, didn’t do anything for her.  
He had manipulated the surveillance camera and picked the lock to her shackles in a mere minute.

“Okay, now I’ll just have to get the IV line out of your arm…” he starts carefully, knowing her a lot better than she’d want him to.  
He gingerly grabs her arm and pulls off the see-through band aid that’s keeping the needle in place.  
“Ready?”  
Rose nodds and stares at the wall ahead of her.

“All done,” he assures her and puts a fresh band aid on the small wound. Rose dares to have a look at the bend of her arm again after that, and her face darkens.  
“Are you being serious?” she asks, motioning to the pink Disney princess band aid on her arm.  
“Haven’t I always treated you like a princess?” he chuckles and starts digging in his bag.  
“But since we rather don’t want to draw too much attention on us now-” he goes on, pulling clippers from the bag, “- take the princess band aid as a substitute for your princess hair.”

“You stay away from my hair.”

Bobby sighs, “Come on, it’s just hair, and you’ll be a lot easier to smuggle out of here when you look-”

“- like a cancer patient?” Rose snarls at him.

“I was gonna say ‘less like yourself’, but if you want to put it that way,” he shrugs.

“Give me a hair bobble, one of those caps, and a surgical mask. That’ll do.”

Bobby sighs again, but does as she says and lets the clippers disappear in his bag again. Once Rose is done, he offers her a hand to help her up from the bed and into the wheelchair he has brought with him, but Rose just raises an eyebrow questioningly at him and gets up herself.  
She’s glad he can’t see her biting her bottom lip behind the surgical mask, when a wave of pain shoots through her chest.

“We can’t just start for the main exit directly. I’m gonna take us on a little tour through some stations first,” Bobby announces and pushes the wheelchair out of the room once the coast is clear.

-

They get rid of the wheelchair and Bobby’s white coat in a little room adjoined to the ER, where he has also stored some ordinary clothes for both of them.  
Rose hates to admit he has to help her, when she can’t pull the shirt over the bandage on her right arm.He gently grabs her wrist and pulls the sleeve back.

While he puts on a pair of jeans and shirt, Rose spends the time in a fog of fatigue and what’s left of her medication, and she is anything but ready when he throws her a sling.  
“Wear this,” he says, picking it up again for her.

“I don’t need a sling,” Rose, true to character, refuses… again.

With time sitting in their necks, Bobby, this time less carefully or gently, grabs her injured arm and puts the loop around her neck.

“We’re going to walk out of the ER in a moment. We were here because you, my girlfriend,” he grins at the face she makes, “- got hurt in a total freak accident. Like slipping on a banana or something.”  
He taps her on the forehead, where that purple bruise of hers is now not hidden by the cap anymore.  
“And believe me, no doctor in any ER lets anyone with an injured arm leave without a sling.”  
There’s not really time to start a fight about ‘to wear a sling or to not wear a sling’, so Rose wordlessly accepts her fate and only glares at him a little, when he puts his arm around her protectively as they walk towards the exit.

-

A few days pass, until Rose dares to contact Luisa.  
Her disappearance from the hospital is all over the news still, and she has never since left the rooftop apartment her associates have rented years ago, in case she should ever need a hideout in Miami.  
Those past few days, she had been pacing through said apartment, occasionally letting her trusted (plastic)surgeon have a look at her injuries, only to go back to brooding and pacing.  
She had played it through countless times, and now it really all came to a crucial stop because she was… scared to call Luisa?

“Damn this…” she mumbles and picks up the phone that’s been sitting on the dining room table since days for this one purpose.  
When the other end of the line picks up, Rose freezes.

“Yes?”

How she had missed hearing that voice.  
Her own voice however seems to have fled the country without her.

“I know it’s you.”

“Luisa?”

“Yes?”

“Can I see you?”

“....”

“I… I have to tell you- ask you something.”

“I can imagine what that is.”

“Is that a ‘no’?”

“... Where? When?”

Rose sighs and tells her the place and time.

“And Luisa… Don’t try anything funny… please. I will have people waiting there, and they won’t harm you but…”

“For goodness’ sake, Rose. Stop being dramatic for once. I will be there. Alone.”  
With that the line goes dead, and Rose is not at all sure what to expect later that night.

-

Luisa can’t quite keep her hands from shaking a bit, waiting at a secluded, private pier in Fort Lauderdale, as the clock approaches midnight.  
Maybe she should have brought donuts.  
The clock strikes 12.  
Stupid idea.  
How did that thought even cross her mind?  
Another minute passes.  
That wouldn’t make all of this feel funny and relaxed.  
Another minute.  
But maybe…

Just as she contemplates throwing everything overboard and leave, a motorcycle approaches.  
Luisa stays in the shade of the big warehouse behind her, until the leather-clad cyclist takes off the helmet and waves of red hair cascade into darkness.

“You’re-” Luisa has to clear her voice, “You’re late.”

“Three minutes. C’mon,” Rose smiles.

“For European standards that’s late. You taught me that.”

Rose smiles some more. She probably looks like the biggest dork smiling her face off like this right now, but she’s just so happy to see Luisa.  
And then she does something Luisa wasn’t prepared for at all.

She stiffens as Rose comes closer and closer and just wants to reach for her phone to speed dial the police, but Rose steps forward and-

Hugs her.  
Like… really, really tightly, but…  
It’s a harmless hug.

“I missed you,” she mumbles into Luisa’s neck, who can’t help to raise her hands and squeeze the other woman too.

“I… I-” Luisa stumbles, but Rose is quick to interrupt her.  
“Don’t say anything. Not yet. Just let me…” she presses Luisa’s body even more against her own. “Give me that moment, okay? I don’t wanna hear about your decision just yet… I wanna hold you.”

That’s when Luisa starts to cry.  
She can’t help it. The tears just start streaming down her cheeks, without her knowing why exactly.  
“Rose… Rose.”

More squeezing.

“Rose!” Luisa yelps and pushes her away a little to look her in the eyes. “Rose, I can’t come with you. I can’t do it. Not now.”

Rose schools her features and stands upright again. Luisa had almost forgotten how much taller than her she was.

“I… I need more time-”

“For what?” Rose bites out.

“I need to get some things done before-”

“Before what?”  
The way Rose’s eyes pin Luisa down makes her feel nauseous.

“Would you let me finish my sentences? That would be very nice, thank you.” Luisa snaps back and crosses her arms in front of her chest.  
Rose sighs but stays quiet.

“So, I need time to decide if I really want to give everything up. My old life. Forever.”

“Rafael said he’d let you meet his kids soon, didn’t he?” Rose sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache on the horizon. Probably that hug hadn’t been a good idea with her still healing head injury… or maybe she was being emotional?

“Yes.” Luisa nods, and another tear rolls down her cheek. “Give me a year.”

“A year?” Rose snorts.

“Yes, a year. In one year I will let you know my decision. Until then we can both try to get our lives… settled. Rose, I-... God, I don’t know,” Luisa trails off.

“One year then,” Rose agrees, looking to the ground. “I’ll let you know how to contact me in 355 days.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Luisa rolls her eyes, and she has to smile despite the tears.

“What was that?” Rose asks faux-annoyed.

“I said you are a jerk,” Luisa repeats and wipes the tears away, but not her smile.

Rose smiles back at her and takes a deep breath. “I’ll see you in one year. For the last time or forever.”

“Drama Queen,” Luisa mocks her, and one more tear escapes her eye.

“I love you, Luisa.”

With that Rose turns around, and Luisa knows, she doesn’t expect her to say it back. She gave her what she had asked for. One year to think about it.  
But telling the truth wouldn’t hurt them right now.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'd mean so much to me if you took your time to ramble in the comments for a bit.  
> Thank you, and bless the few happy days this fandom has got left.
> 
> (I'm being dramatic - you guessed.)  
> ^^

**Author's Note:**

> You made it to the 'end'?  
> I don't think this is a satisfying ending in any way myself, but I simply have no idea how I want Rose to reach out to Luisa again after being free....  
> Help me, in case you want another, concluding chapter!!!
> 
> Thank youuuu for reading and let me know what you think!  
> xx


End file.
